Through the Eyes of a Hufflepuff
by Weirdly
Summary: This is the diary of a Hufflepuff, beginning in 1977. Live with her through the fear and sorrow of Voldemort's First Rising, the difficulties that arise with her seventh year, a new evil power that she can't control, and her beloved friends. [ABANDONED]
1. Prologue: After the Wars

**Disclaimer: This disclaimer will go for the whole fic: I do not own Harry Potter or anything connected. However, I do own a few of the characters here.**

**A/N: I am REPOSTING this REVISED version. This is so, so, so, SO much better than before. As in, before it was the crappiest of craps, and now it is merely...not crap, I suppose. I'm going to be revising and reposting this, also, constantly. I like it, so I'm going to make it better. MUAHAHAHA!**

**Anyway, enjoy the prologue.**

You are ten years old, living in London at 11 Grimmauld Place. Your parents are rich. Loaded. Wealthy. Incredibly money-filled.

But there is a house right near yours that is bigger. Of course, its lawn is dingy and unkempt. But no one seems to notice it but you. You mentioned 12 Grimmauld Place once, but your parents looked at you strangely and insisted there was no 12 Grimmauld Place.

It doesn't matter. You have more important things to worry about: are your friends from the street fed enough? You know that Teddy the juggler on the street corner is looking mighty gaunt lately, but he won't accept any money.

You are not sheltered, however much your parents tried; you know that. You've lived like a street kid for a few weeks when you told your parents you were staying at a friend's, and your best friends live in hardship. Sometimes—most of the time—you think this is incredibly unfair. So you decide to advertise around the neighborhood for a little theater that you want the street performers to do their stuff in: most are very good. You will give the proceeds from the box office to them. They need their food.

You've done every other house on the block but Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It's creepy there. But you need the possible money, so you walk up to the door and knock—not the doorbell, you hate those things—and wait for a while. No one opens the door, so you knock again. And again.

There is a bit of a scuffle, and then a weary looking young woman opens the door. She has bright red hair and pastes on a smile.

"Hello," she says. "How may I help you?" Her hand fingers something in her pocket.

This is the first you see of the Potter family, of which Ginny Potter nee Weasley is the wife of Harry Potter, the evident war hero of the wizarding world. You know. You received a letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a year later, and Harry and Ginny Potter (and their later children) are some of your best friends. It seems that you caught a glimpse of some special bit of paper listing its address so it wasn't a secret to you anymore. Harry got very angry at that man who'd held the paper, since that was in the dangerous, terrible time of Voldemort.

So here you are, rooting in their attic. Looking for some old mirror that Ginny wants to hang over the staircase and you find something else.

It is a small box of small books. They are dusty, and very old. A wizard picture on the cover of the first and oldest book shows an older teenager, slightly plump, happy looking, with curly brown hair and a funky looking wand twirling between her fingers. She is grinning at you.

"Here're my diaries," her tinny voice informs you. "Please read them. I hope I'm still alive, so when you find out my name you can find me. Or something. Well, either way, I want you to read these books! I'm just sorry I can't find the ones before seventh year. Oh, well! Have fun! I hope you enjoy the parts that are enjoyable, laugh at my strangeness, and not be _too_ sad at the sad parts. I've made it a little more of a narrative now, for your reading pleasure! Well, I've babbled. Read, read, read!"

She falls silent. You look at the book for a minute, and flip open the cover, Ginny's mirror forgotten. You lose yourself in another witch's world of fear and happiness and love and Voldemort.

You read.

**A/N(#2!): By the way, my friends, I am almost done with my new chapter of Gift of Gramarie. I don't want to jinx it...but I think I've broken the writer's block. It'll be up soon.**

**Please review.**


	2. The Beginning: August, 1977

**A/N: Just so you know, future chapters will be longer than this. And this begins in 1977--I looked it up on the Harry Potter Lexicon. Dead useful site, by the way.**

**And I hope and tried hard to make this NOT a Mary-Sue. Please tell me how I've done.**

8/27/77

This is a new diary, so I suppose I'll introduce myself.

The name is Genevieve Smith, and witchcraft is my game. As in, I wave my wand and say an incantation and a feather levitates (if I want it to.)

I'm a Hufflepuff seventh year at Hogwarts. I'm in the same year as the infamous Marauders and Lily Evans; all of whom (I hate to say it for the Marauders) are going to be great someday. I probably won't, since I'm kind of short and pudgy and not great at actual spells and stuff.

I'm also a chronic diary-writer. Can you tell?

Actually the Sorting Hat was definitely leaning toward Ravenclaw for me, and I hang around with a bunch of Ravenclaws; love to read, but I hate to study. So here I am, stuck in Hufflepuff…haha.

I'm not really interested in great things, though I suppose I am interested in Ravenclaw things. I want to be a folklorist when I grow up. Going to be lots of fun!

Yeah. A folklorist. A story collector. In the wizarding world, it's called a Tale Master.

Got a problem diary? Huh? HUH?

The folktales of the wizarding world are fascinating. You can learn so much from them – they have ancient spells and have information hidden in them. I enthuse.

Yeah.

Going back to Hogwarts in four days. Or is it three? I can never get these things straight. Do you count from the day that you're on, or tomorrow, or what?

8/28/77

I forgot to say anything about my family. Sorry. It was a bit late last night.

My family is loco. Crazy. I guess you could say I'm crazier, but then I'm a Hufflepuff and we're known for being flaky.

But yeah. My parents are hippies--very, very, very weird--and have a freaking threesome. I have two mothers, one father, and two older brothers. It's a little creepy…very creepy…and illegal…so I have two moms and a dad. Funnily enough, I like Mum (my non-biological mother) better than Mama.

They're all muggles so that makes me muggleborn. Though that last bit is relatively easy to figure out.

Even with all the prejudice directed at muggleborns, I have enough friends, a best friend (Lily Evans, even though she's in Gryffindor) and many other very good friends.

Three more days (or is it two?) (or is it four?) until Hogwarts.

8/29/77

EL POLLO DIABLO HAS COME!

PURPLE GERBILS UNITE!

PURPLE GERBILS UNTIE!

FAREWELL TO ALL FUNNY FUZZY ANIMALS!

IF LIFE THROWS YOU LEMONS, THROW THEM BACK AT THE FUCKER!

I'M A TURD MASQUERADING AS A RAISIN!

LOSERS ALWAYS WIN!

QUIDDITCH IS A TESTOSTERONE POISONED SPORT!

DOWN WITH PHYSICAL EXERTION!

I'm a little hyper. And trying to decide which one of those would make a good motto for me. I think I'll have to email Lily.

Later

Just heard from Lily that Black the Elder (Sirius Black) moved in with Potter the Prat (James Potter, Lily's long-time crush, not that she'd _ever_ admit it) because he (B the E) ran away. Weird.

But that reminds me. Black is really annoying. So are all the Marauders. Conceited, stuck-up, holier-than-thou little shits are always embarrassing someone or something. Humor! That's what they call it! Humor! That's not humor, it's alice.

Wait, I wrote alice, not malice!

Ha!

I'm such a ditz.

Day after day after tomorrow is Hogwarts.

8/30/77

I've narrowed it down to EL POLLO DIABLO HAS COME! and PURPLE GERBILS UNITE! and DOWN WITH PHYSICAL EXERTION!

The others can be my back-up mottos, though. Good for shouting in the common room—which is painted a really _ghastly_ combination of yellow and black.

Please note, diary, that I just shuddered.

No more updates on Potter and Black. Not even from Remus, who's my friend, because he's not an utter prat like the rest of them. He's a werewolf.

I like Peter too, actually. He's rather sweet, when not around B the E and Potter the Prat (or, P the P).

This is really annoying, explaining all this to you, diary. Blech.

On another, random, note, I think I'm descended from a werewolf. I eat a lot of bloody, almost raw steak and I love it.

But wait – ! They cannot have children – ! It's _all_ me!

EL POLLO DIABLO HAS COME!

Day after tomorrow is Hogwarts.

8/31/77

Know what? I'm going to leave off the year part of these dates. It sucks having to remember the year. I was never good at it.

Haha.

But today is a Saturday so we go on the Express on a Sunday, which means that the very next day we have classes. That sucks like a big, huge, bucket of ticks.

About Lily: she is having troubles with Petunia again, her sister. Petunia thinks Lily's a 'freak' for being a witch, and is an absolute 'witch' in return. You know what kind of witch I'm talking about.

But I sort of know how she feels because Tommy (my oldest brother) was being downright annoying. I wanted to use his record player and he wouldn't let me.

Pissing me off.

PURPLE GERBILS UNITE!

**TOMORROW IS HOGWARTS!**


	3. Back to Hogwarts: September, 1977

**A/N: Heya, I don't have _anything_ to say. Have fun, read, and review.**

9/1

Spent the day on the Hogwarts Express. Marauders came to bother us (me, Lily, Alice Jordan, Brian Jones, Frank Longbottom, Sarah Potter, and Vivian Zabini).

I'm really not going to go through a whole list of describing everybody.

Can you say P-O-I-N-T-L-E-S-S? And B-O-R-I-N-G?

But the Marauders come in and they're all nice and happy and stuff, and they annoy us. As usual. Sirius goes straight for Vivian. I think he thinks that two such beauties would make a perfect match. Hah. He's not—_that_—much of a beauty. He's got gray eyes, and black hair—ok, maybe he is really hot. But no less than any of the other Marauders, ok? Ok? Hear that, diary? Oh. What now. I have appreciate everybody AESTHETICLY.

Merlin, I'm getting aggressive at my diary. Phew. I am seriously flaky.

At the Welcoming Feast, we got eight new Hufflepuffs. I can't remember their names for the life of me. Sorry.

Going to cut this off because I'm too tired—it's midnight and everything. After the Marauders' latest prank I'm real tired. They made everyone run around like headless chickens, but I can't remember the point of the prank. I don't pay attention to that kind of stuff. EL POLLO DIABLO!

¡ADIOS MI AMIGITO!

(That means approximately 'Bye, my little friend!' for all ye non-Spanish speakers.)

9/2

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! It's Monday!

Too much homework to write now!

Fucking NEWTS!

9/3

Now I can write. I'm officially procrastinating my homework. I'm so lazy. That's, actually, probably the reason why I don't get straight O's. If I do say so myself.

Oh…I can feel a fit coming on. When I'm really tired (I had a long sleepover with my Ravenclaw friends—aka Argent Smith, Nick Yolland, Jenny Francis, and Taylor Gregorsson), I always go ANGSTANGSTANGST, or just all hyper.

Hmm…maybe this is just the result of spending time with my Ravenclaw friends who are seriously Intellectual Emos. Or, as I like to say, Intellectual Emus. Lily joined us for that sleepover, which was really nice, so we had not only fun gossip/chat/makeovers/normal sleepover activity but also intelligent conversation. Those all are my best friends, and out of them my bestestbestest are Lily and Argent.

It's really nice. I have good friends in all houses. Yay!

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Maybe I'll go visit Lily in the library. Argent'll probably be studying and angsting there too. He's the biggest dear with badly black-dyed hair I've ever met.

Later

Oh, I have news. I remember now. Right after Professor Slughorn (Potions) assigned us that nasty essay (on boomslang skin) he assigned groups of three for a project of making some obscure potion. (Which I have heard of, through my knowledge of fairy tales and myths. I was one of the only ones who knew; besides Lily of course because she knows every potion on earth. How cool is that?)

We had Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Slughorn put Lily with Pettigrew and P the P. I got put with Black and Remus. Sarah (lucky girl) got put with Brian (who's in Hufflepuff, I forgot to mention it) and Joe Spencer, who's in Gryffindor and obsessed with the Beatles. (muggle band, in case you're a wizard diary.)

Hah!

Joke.

9/4

I hate Black. I hate Remus too, come to think of it. Annoying little bastards. Teasing me all through the time when we were supposed to be working on The Potions Project. Saying things like "sure you have that mixture right?" and "so you found this recipe in a _fairy tale_?"

Little bastards. Why don't _they_ go look for the potion? Why don't _they_ make the potion? I suck at making potions. But Black is worse, and Remus is even worse but as good as me at writing essays so he does that. Maybe I can convince my Ravenclaw friend Taylor to help me. Probably, since Taylor is the most generous person I've ever met.

New prank from the Marauders. Quite enjoyed this one, actually. Shouted out random phrases for all of dinner, but at least not in class. I decided on shouting out my mottos, while the other victims shouted that they loved Black's ass, or something of the sort. It was quite funny for me to be shouting out that EL POLLO DIABLO IS COMING in the middle of a roast beef. (I ate one whole roast, all dripping with blood and stuff. Yum.)

More homework! We hates it, yes precious…yes, precious…_gollum_…_gollum_…they stole it! Filthy hobbitses! They took it from us, precious…yes…

DOWN WITH PHYSICAL EXERTION!

9/5

Found a very interesting folktale. It's like Sleeping Beauty, but Sleeping Beauty is a pureblood disguised as a muggleborn and is fed a VERY powerful Draught of Living Death that the evil stepmother (a pureblood) gives Sleeping Beauty because Sleeping Beauty evidently has BOTH purer blood and greater beauty than she. What does that tell us about pureblood beliefs?

Didn't have to work with Black and Remus today, thank God.

Learned about some dangerous plant that I promptly forgot the name of in Herbology. I'm crap in that class. I'm slightly above average (I am not as bad as Pettigrew, who is _serious_ _crap_ in his classes and I am not as good as Lily or P the P.) in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potion. Ancient Runes is my best.

I AM A TURD DISGUISED AS A RAISIN!

9/6

Vivian was bugging me about my lack of a boyfriend. Got mad, told her to piss off. Lack of boyfriend is sore spot. Which she was poking. On purpose.

God, she can be such a bitch.

Diary, now that you've seen what my days are like, can you honestly say that I have a happy life? Yes, you can. I have a very happy life. I'm content, despite my lack of a boyfriend and everything. I wouldn't give up my life for another.

You may think that I'm in denial. But I do have a happy life, and I love it. Except…sometimes, when I'm feeling introspective and philosophical, I feel like I'm missing something big. I don't know what it is.

Done with sappy part!

IF LIFE THROWS YOU LEMONS, THROW THEM BACK AT THE FUCKER!

That seemed appropriate.

9/7

Funny funny funny funny funny funny laugh! Hyperhyperhyperhyperhyperhyperhyper!

I just drank a pitcher of syrup mixed in with twelvepackets of sugar and a cup of coffee. Haha! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I think P the P is scared of me. He keeps on dodging out of my way when I come down the hall. I feel gratified. The only other person he does that to is Sarah (his sister, you know…) and not even to Lily. I think it was my amazing feat of incredible hyperactivity that did it.

Too much homework. And Black, Remus and I finished that potion. With Taylor's help, of course.

9/8

Normal day. New boyfriend for Vivian. Boring. Boring. Exhausting. Too much homework. Felt insecure about pudginess.

PURPLE GERBILS UNITE!

9/9

I found a new folktale. It was about a necromancer, and should be classified as a 'trickster' tale, and it's from the Western European (mainly Spanish) wizarding world. Here's how it goes:

'Once, before the time of Hogwarts there was a great nation. Ruling over the nation was a man whose eyes were red and heart was black and green. His name was Muertito, and he was a Necromancer, one of the evil breed who deals with death and destruction. He created armies for himself of the dead, brought enemies back to life in order to torture them more, and tried to achieve immortality.

'One of the enemies, who dwelt in Death, was a boy by the name of Filip. Muertito decided to bring Filip back, to torture him more.

'So Muertito went to his ritual room and performed the ritual. He stood, naked, in a pentagon by a portal to the Otherworld he had created. He pronounced words of evil, and Filip came back. Now, Filip was an enterprising young man, and he hid himself, making Muertito believe that he had failed in his necromantic venture.

'Muertito screamed and he smashed the room of rituals. Filip watched. He had known what Muertito would do, since the passage between Life and Death had taken from his body and added to his mind.

'Then Filip stood up, and made a noise so that Muertito saw him. The evil man ran to Filip, and tried to capture him. But Filip had gone out of the way and hidden himself again, underneath a boulder. The boulder would give way once Filip let go of the Binding Charm he had used to keep the boulder in place.

'And Filip stood and called to Muertito again, then hid. When Muertito was right under the boulder, Filip released the Binding Charm. The boulder smashed onto Muertito and killed him. Filip then hid the Great Book of Necromancy somewhere where no one would find it. And then, his job on Earth done, he departed back to Death through Muertito's portal.

'After that, everyone was happy.'

Weird, huh? I wonder how many people've tried to find that book. Be pretty cool for the Department of Mysteries if they did find it. (Everybody 'knows' what's in the Department of Mysteries, or at the very least that they deal with death.)

HASTA LUEGO, MIS PERRITOS CALIENTES!

(see you later (or something like that) my hot dogs)

9/10

Told Lily that folktale. She shuddered and told me never to speak to her again about my fairy tales. I told Black, and he recognized it. Evidently his mother had told it to him when he was a baby.

Ugh.

I would hate to meet his mother. She sounds gruesome. I pointedly did _not_ ask him about his fambily, and yes I meant to include a 'b' in 'fambily'.

Yeah, after he mentioned his mom, there was a long silence and Remus really awkwardly changed the subject.

On another note, I had a nice dinner with Brian. Only Brian. Seeing as there was a food fight at breakfast and The McGonagall saw fit to assign us seats for a few meals. Lord, we're big kids now—we don't need assigned seats. Argh! At least Dumbledore will let us sit anywhere in general; but we collectively decided that it would be wise to follow The McGonagall's orders for a while.

Oh well. Ta!

9/12

It turns out I got an O on that potions project. But another group got the little 'prize' (a smiley face eraser that barfs up graphite if you bang it on a desk each) even though they all like each other so it wasn't as much of a trial. I feel like I got the fuzzy end of the lollipop.

Anyway.

Hufflepuff is one big happy family: true or false?

False!

Bitches.

A few—read, all except me—seventh year girls appropriated the dorm for a big sleepover for their particular friends. I wasn't invited (thank God) so I was kicked-fucking-out and I'm going over to Ravenclaw to sleep in Taylor and Jenny's dorm. Of course, we may go over to Argent and Nick's dorm to hang around, and Lily will probably join us, and maybe Sarah and Alice. Grin!

Ok, maybe they aren't such bitches. In fact, they're really not; but it felt good to call them such. They're nice, actually, but sometimes a little…thoughtless…

Oh, there was another attack. By You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. I can't say his name. Oh, I'm not a freaking Gryffindor, don't look at me like that. I'm not brave. I have some sort of irrational fear that if I say his name, he'll come swooping down on my family and me. It's slightly silly really—but—

Whatever. Screw the serious talk. It makes me uncomfortable.

EL POLLO DIABLO HAS COME!

9/13

I just realized. I think there's a werewolf at Hogwarts. I think I heard a wolf's howl when I went walking by the lake on the last full moon, and I can recognize that it's not a normal wolf. I've heard normal wolves, and that ain't one. I wonder who it is.

But I don't have time to think of that now because my fucking teachers have piled me with too much fucking homework. Again.

I have to:

-review boggarts and see if I can still defeat one

-do an essay on the theory of the Patronus Charm and see if I can perform it

-an essay on Amortentia Plus (absolutely newly invented love potion)

-find someone to go with as a date for the freaking Halloween ball that Dumbledore has warned us almost two months in advance so we can worry over it more

-practice the spell we learned in class for Transfiguration and write two paragraphs on it

-practice the spell we learned in Charms (some advanced cleaning charm)

-memorize thirteen Celtic runes

All for tomorrow (except the date). About the ball, I guess I'll have to go without male accompaniment.

There's been another attack, the first real one since the summer. Some village in Northern Ireland.

9/14

There was another prank today. Everybody in the school (at least, the ones who ate dinner) were made to dance in a congo line. All right, it _is_ sort of amusing when everybody gets pranked at once. But when it's only a select group of people—that's mean. But the Marauders (all of them) got detention. I don't think McGonagall was happy when she started doing the tango with Professor Flitwick.

I heard the Marauders complaining that they had to get potions ingredients in the Forbidden Forest. Shudder. I love the forest in general, but parts of the Forbidden Forest scare the hell out of me. Right out of some horror tale.

Right now, I'm researching this myth written in Hebrew that I caught wind of. It's supposed to have an incantation for some obscure spell. It's probably been found before, but I still want to see it. There weren't any reports of attacks in The Daily Prophet. Thank God.

9/15

I'm not really certain what I did, but I got a detention in Potions. Well, maybe it was because I was in a fight with Vivian, who's one of his favorites, and I was getting slowly annoyed because she had been on my back about something or other, or teasing me about my lack of a date—or something. She really can be a bitch. So, although she's not in my Potions class, I was really irritable and slamming ingredients into the cauldron with great force and then Slughorn took points off and gave me a detention. It's with the Marauders, collecting potion ingredients n the Forest.

Crap.

I can't believe it. Only just past a week of school, and I have detention? Crap crap crap.

But I found that incantation. It's pronounced 'Shlichah.' It plants a suggestion in the victim's mind to forgive the caster everything they've done, and completely. It is a Dark spell, and used to be used by unscrupulous people on trial on the judges.

Isn't it funny how such a wonderful, beautiful concept can become a Dark spell?

EL POLLO DIABLO HAS COME!

9/18

Sorry I didn't write for so long. There's just been so much going on. Lily (she's Head Girl, and James is Head Boy) got chewed out by James for being a bitch toward him. And yes, I call him James now. I'm in a conspiracy with Remus to get Lily and James together.

See, Lily has been a el major-o stinker-o to James, but this year he's stopped doing the mean pranks and only the funny ones. So when she got at him for immaturity, he got at _her_ for immaturity and that he'd stopped doing the mean pranks and only did the funny ones because the school needed comic relief what with You-Know-Who and everything. This put a knot in Lily's opinion of him, so there's been lots of crying on her part and ranting and asking whether she was that blind and that bad, and lots of dead looks on James' part for being such a prat and making Lily cry.

They just need to be locked in a broom closet.

So I started Operation: Lily and James with Remus. May bring Argent and Jenny in on it, since they are the best at those schemes. We've decided that all we need to do is bring Lily's crush on James into the open and make it equal James' feelings for her. Not an easy task. But we've already gotten Lily to apologize to James. That's a good first step.

I _may_ be starting to consider Sirius and Remus friends. I _may _have a slight crush on Remus. And I _may_ be looking forward to that detention which _may_ be tomorrow and which we _may_ have to spend in the Forbidden Forest.

I'm not giving any certainties in case this diary is read.

9/19

I'm about to go to detention. I won't be able to write about it tonight, because it's going to be so late. It's already dark out now.

Nothing happened today with Operation: Lily and James, but it's not going badly either. My goal is to have them dating, but Remus wants them married because he says that their kid will be great for the Gryffindor quidditch team. He then went on to describe how the Gryffindor quidditch team could be improved, and I stopped paying attention after the first five seconds or so. Argent, who's helping us (Jenny is 'too busy'—aka, 'hanging out' with a nice Slytherin boy in certain third floor closets) asked Remus how he could be sure that the kid would be a Gryffindor; but Remus merely replied 'with parents like Lily and James raising him, how could he _not_?'

I agree. Heh.

QUIDDITCH IS A TESTOSTERONE POISONED SPORT!

I thought that was appropriate.

9/20

About my detention. OH MY GOD!

I was stupid and prideful and it got me in trouble. Big trouble.

We met Hagrid the gamekeeper at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's half giant, real nice. So he was carrying a crossbow.

Ok, just want you to know: I am a wimp. Wimp wimp wimp.

Now that that's over with, here goes:

We marched into the Forest. It is SO DAMN SCARY. It took fifteen minutes of hiking (physical exertion! Bleh!) until we came to our destination. Which was this clearing. It was really dark.

Well, I didn't know what ingredient we were harvesting, since, as you know, I am crap at Herbology. I didn't know that I was supposed to be wearing gloves and not supposed to get _any_ of the juice on me.

Well, shit.

I got some of the juice on me. My hands, to be precise, when I was picking my flowers and the Marauders were off doing whatever the hell they do in dark forests in detention. Including, of course, standing about ten feet away from me and conversing in loud voices about their next prank.

This ingredient is powerful. Very powerful. My friends looked it up. It's also slightly legendary; my friends researched it relatively heavily in the Hogwarts library and it is possible that Slughorn didn't know of its full danger. Otherwise he would not—I know him well enough to say this—would not have let five seventeen/eighteen-year-olds collect it. Especially a flaky one included.

Well, here's what they found out:

-if ingested, any part of the flower copies and transfers into oneself one or two randomly selected magical traits, such as being an Animagus, excellence in an area of magic, the ability to heal without a wand, etc. Nothing Dark, and those surrounding the person must have the ability.

-if the juice (squeezed from stem, nectar, etc.) comes into contact with the skin, any _Dark_ trait in the surrounding area (about fifteen feet) copies and transfers to you. The first part is instantaneous; but for three days and one hour afterwards, with any traits coming within two feet of you is the same, but the trait has to remain within two feet for fifteen minutes. The traits can be something like lycanthropy, vampirism, an aptitude for Dark magic, Dementorism (the ability to leech happy memories), the ability to harm without a wand, etc.

Well, the thing sure hurts.

But let's move on.

Basically, I was trying to pick the flowers without letting anyone know that I hadn't brought gloves (I was kind of embarrassed) and I squeezed a little too hard. A tiny bit of that gross mucus stuff that's on the inside of flowers got on my hand (read tiny as I felt wet but couldn't see it at all even when I shined wandlight on it); and after I'd studied my hand thoroughly with_ Lumos_ and couldn't see where the wet nectar-y stuff was even though I could feel it, it started to burn.

And when I say burn, I mean _burn_. Flames. I spontaneously freaking combusted, goddamnit. Then there was this sensation, that was extremely weird. Extremely. I sort of—oh, I don't know how to explain it—I sort of felt places in my brain _opening_ up and _filling_ out, and suddenly things happened.

Again, suddenly, the flames stopped. I was lying stark/butt nekked on the forest floor. With four boys watching over me with very panicked faces. I could tell that their faces were panicked, I could _see_, finally, it seems. I could _hear_, I could hear their breaths I could hear their blood and their hearts and their noises and I could also _hear_ the rabbit in the bushes and so much else that…

My senses were enhanced, in short. How? I did not know. Was this a normal reaction after spontaneously combusting? I didn't know, but it was exhilarating. I felt for the first time _alive_ and living. I was of the night; I don't know how else to explain the whole phenomenon.

The Marauders sent up red sparks with their wands, but Hagrid didn't come quickly enough; so James went into a thicket and his scent suddenly changed, really subtly. The animal taint deepened, one could say. I asked what he was doing, and Peter told me that he was getting help, with a quick glance to the others that only I could see with my new eyes. Sirius and Remus looked distracted.

What I did next can be excused, since I was desperately exhausted from bursting into flame (exhausted enough to not be ashamed at my nakedness): I _asked_. I asked things like 'why do you get such good marks and never study, Sirius?' 'where do you _really_ go every month, Remus?' 'how did you get so hot, Sirius?' 'what's your family like, Sirius?' 'why weren't you in Gryffindor, Peter?' 'why do smell like animals?' etc. But that wasn't the bad part. I _told_ them things. When I'd gotten my period, how long my cycle is, who I had crushes on, about my family, my dearest ambitions, why certain things annoyed me—

I'm hoping that they didn't listen.

I was just about to tell them about how cute so-and-so's abs looked when he changed that James came back, and hoo-boy am I glad now. I don't know how long it would have been before I started telling them my friends' secrets, especially a few about Sarah (we were bestbestbest friends in fourth and fifth year, then drifted apart a bit, although we're still best friends) that not even James knows.

Well, James came back with Dumbledore, actually, who _Locomotor Mortis_'d me to the Hospital Wing (keeping me at all times more than two feet away from me, I realize) and handed me to Madam Pomfrey.

Oh, Lord.

The Pomfrey took charge. She found out from Dumbledore what he thought had happened (which was how I found out the name of the plant) and she just looked troubled, looked at Remus (hovering in the doorway with the other Marauders, looking nervous) and put me to bed. I didn't sleep, because not only does it seem I now have a resistance to Dreamless Sleep Potions, but the Marauders got Lily to tell them my closest friends and brought them in.

So I was surrounded by—let's think—Jenny, Taylor, Argent, Nick, Lily, Sarah, Brian, Alice, and Frank. That was a lot. They actually could have only brought Argent, Jenny, Lily and Sarah if they wanted my bestbest friends and beyond; but whatever.

They interrogated me. GOD I AM IN SO MUCH FUCKING TROUBLE WITH MY FRIENDS. They bawled me out for not wearing gloves ('you _have_ to, all the time, when you're working with magical plants'), for not researching the flower ('wow, you seriously _are_ a flaky Hufflepuff. What _possessed_ you—') and everything else. But they forgave me and apologized for hurting my ears, and went away to pull an all-nighter research session on the flower.

I LOVE MY FRIENDS.

I spent the day in the Hospital Wing. They may be able to sneak me out later, because I am bored bored _bored_, but for now I'm waiting for the Pomfrey's verdict on my Dark magic traits.

9/21

I got to be better friends with the Marauders. They found out my deep dark secrets and they gave me theirs, as it was only fair, and they knew I was trustworthy since I hadn't blurted about anyone else, etc; besides, evidently they should have stopped me from spontaneously combusting or whatever. Remus is a werewolf and they're Animagi to keep him company. I went _aww that's so sweet_ and they all ran away.

Pomfrey told me what traits I have so far. I'd guessed werewolf, since Remus was there, but I also have the ability to harm without a wand. Dumbledore is supposed to teach me Occlumency and help me with the whole thing, but I don't know what the big thing is. I'm not going to use it.

Oh, the Pomfrey told me that I only gain traits from conscious beings that consider their abilities Dark. Also, Dumbledore has sent out teams to collect the thing so that You-Know-Who won't find any. Or find out about it, hopefully. In fact, he actually Obliviated any remembrance (that's a good word) of the flower's part in my issues. Ugh. I'm the only one who remembers the flower.

Remus talked to me for a while, about the werewolf thing. He said that we have advanced senses and reflexes and strength, although we turn into ravaging beasts on full moon. I joked that I already do without being a werewolf, and he looked blank for a moment before blushing. Then I remembered that I'd told him _everything_ and blushed as well. Ugh. Embarrassment.

I can go from the Hospital Wing tomorrow, as long as I don't stay within two feet of one person for longer than fifteen minutes. I also have an appointment with Dumbledore scheduled.

I'm just wondering from whom I got the ability to harm.

9/22

Today I had more mundane issues than the same old I may become a monster and kill everyone in the school ones.

The Halloween Ball, first of all. Attendance: mandatory. The first in fifty goddamn years. It just feels so…cliché…

Dumbledore moved the appointment to tomorrow. He's bizzy, yo.

I announced it El Día del Pollo Diablo, or the Day of the Devil Chicken. Heh. I put up posters.

9/23

The posters have scorch marks on them. I think a few sixth years were using them for target practice.

Fuck those posters; there's been more going on. There was another attack. Thirty muggles killed, and one muggleborn. Lily and I were so scared until we got owled by our families. I was so relieved when I saw that my family was still alive. Oh my God. I've never been so happy in my life. Lily looked the same.

Sirius and James (yes, first names) looked slightly bewildered by our relief. Their families are pureblood. They don't have to worry. Well, Sirius' family definitely won't get killed, but James' family supports Dumbledore openly. They're on the target, maybe not the bulls-eye, but pretty close. I'm always afraid, though, not just for my family, but that black owls will come for some student every morning. Black owls are what the Ministry uses to tell of deaths.

I feel so bad though, the one girl who has lost her parents, I just feel glad that I'm not her. I feel bad because I feel like that, now.

And because I was feeling so bad, I got extra touchy. Like usual. But then Vivian came up to the Hufflepuff dorms (I let her in) and she was bitching at me about not inviting her into the Hospital Wing, isn't she my friend, she guesses not, etc. etc…

Oh, I just realized that I really haven't said anything good about Viv except for her looks. Basically, the reason she's so bitchy is that she doesn't deal with her emotions well, and she tries to make people's lives better (aka mine, by getting a boyfriend and such) and she partly does that by nagging. It's a little tad bit annoying.

Anyway, she was nagging at me because she was worried and Sirius evidently had not wanted to invite a Slytherin to my bedside. Also, I was really, really, really, really touchy because of the attack (it was like my adrenalin was going straight to the annoyance sector of my brain) and she was getting me angry.

I hurt her, by mistake. I was not that _that_ angry, but it was enough; my magicn (or what seemed like it) sort of whipped around her and _hurt_ her.

It was the most terrible thing I have ever done. It was disgusting, horrible, horrific—I don't know what other words I can use—to a friend, a human, hurt and know that _I_ had done that, I had made those marks that coiled around her and bled.

I heard the blood flowing oddly through her body, I could smell the tang of the blood, I could almost taste the blood, and—I am ashamed to admit this—all that, and also the knowing that I had caused that—it all _aroused_ me. In the midst of the shame and the horror and terror was the knowledge that this felt _good_ and that maybe I'd do it again.

I brought Viv to the Hospital Wing, crying, and I could hear the little whimpers that she made in her throat, and even then there was also the pleasure that I'm so _powerful_, for once; and when I brought her to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey took care of her, then told me Dumbledore's password.

I went up there immediately; of course I was embarrassed—terribly so—and ashamed and afraid and terrified and everything else, but I really wanted to stop this happening. I'm afraid of the whole emotional package that came with this power; afraid of the pleasure and of the bad feelings as well.

I told Dumbledore everything, which was indeed sort of embarrassing; but he told me how to deal. When I get angry or even annoyed, he said, I need to use this exercise that'll help me control the whole thing. He also talked to me about how tempting Dark magic is, etc.; warned me against temptation and everything else. He also told me that on full moons, Professor Sprout or Madam Pomfrey would come for me and bring me to the Shrieking Shack where I would transform and have ultimate werewolf-y fun with Remus. Cavorting and biting and everything. Wow.

Oh, by the way, it has just been found out that, not only do I LOVE MY FRIENDS, but they are remarkably unprejudiced. They don't care about my new traits. And Viv is/was remarkably forgiving, when I talked to her in the Hospital Wing. We're much better friends now.

Nothing much else happened, except that evidently teachers have been warned about me and my horrible little power. Ugh. I just wish…wish…that it could be secret? A secret little shame? A secret big shame?

No. I want everyone to be safe. And only the teachers and my friends (my _best best_ friends—aka Lily, Alice, Argent, Taylor, Jenny, Nick, Brian, and Vivian—the rest have been Obliviated) know, anyway.

Oh, I don't know I don't know I don't know!

9/24 (Saturday)

A black owl (Ministry color for alerting someone to a death in the family) came at breakfast today. No one I know; a boy whose name is (I think) Fred Anderson. Muggleborn.

The Slytherin table (part of it, anyway) were fairly cheering when they saw the poor boy run out of the Great Hall in tears. He's only a third year. I couldn't rein in my anger, and my bacon got cut to pieces on my plate. It was nearly a few of those Slytherins. It may still be, if I run into them.

The Slytherin table has split into two factions: Future Death Eaters and Future Non-Death Eaters. Vivian told us that she doesn't like this. It's Gryffindor-esque, she says. Slytherins don't do things like that so openly. She says also that You-Know-Who has ruined the whole Slytherin House Unity principle. Vivian is on the Future **Non**-Death Eaters side, which I am very grateful for. Very very. Incredibly very.

You know, I don't think I've talked about my family at all. Well, I've been staying in contact of course, but a letter exchange usually takes about two weeks, what with the slowness of Triple M (magical/muggle mail when one doesn't have an owl), and I haven't told them much. I'll talk to them later—it's always nice to have a mommy's opinion on a matter and better still to have two mommies—but it's…difficult.

I mean, telling my moms and dad that there's a war going on and I now have the power to harm and I can't control it? They'd pull me right out and put me on some sort of drugs, whether medicinal or not. They're goddamn hippies. They have a goddamn _threesome_, damnit; and I love the wizarding world. Hogwarts.

I'm not going to tell them for a while yet.

9/26 (Sunday)

No black owls for the past few days. You-Know-Who is dropping the killing for a bit, anyway. But the teachers' relief is shown, it seems, by homework on Sunday. I should probably just get used to it. (The homework, I mean.)

I read a nice little muggle romance novel. It was stress-relieving. Quite pleasant.

I tripped over Snape today. He was on the floor under a Full-Body-Bind, and hexed quite thoroughly. I took him out of the bind and asked who did it. He glowered at me and didn't answer so I rolled my eyes and _Mobilicorpus_'d him to Madam Pomfrey.

I know it wasn't the Marauders. They're the public humiliation type. This was more Slytherin. I wouldn't have found him if I hadn't tripped over him in a dark corridor of the dungeons, when I was taking an unnecessary long cut because of the damned stairs. I wouldn't be surprised if he was on the outs with his clique in his house, got hexed, and will now suck up.

9/27 (Monday)

There's a big long term project due tomorrow. I've finished about half of it, so I'd better go finish it now.

A first year Gryffindor's cousin was tortured and killed. I murdered some pigeons. I really have to stop even letting it out—I'm afraid I'm getting addicted to the power. I'm afraid. Terrified, almost constantly, that I'll get annoyed and hurt someone. I'm so stressed that I've been getting annoyed more often, too, and it's just—ugh.

9/28 (Tuesday)

I read about a tradition where you light a candle for each death (not of natural causes) that you hear of, and then you burn a slip of paper with their name written down on it in the candle. I like that tradition.

I think I'll start it.

Oh, my beliefs: don't really know about mine. At all. I don't really have a specific religion, either, but I like to think I'm pretty spiritual; and I _love_ traditions.

So I did that for that Gryffindor's cousin, to tell the spirit that there is someone else he doesn't even know who is caring for him. It's a very meaningful tradition. It made me cry. Though that may just be because of PMS. Who knows.

I'm tired now. I don't really remember much about today, I'm so sleepy…bye!

9/29 (Wednesday)

Another death; another candle.

I do it right before I go to bed. It's very lovely and fills up some of the discontent—I am content and not at the same time, it's odd—with meaning.

TOO SERIOUS!

TOO MUCH HOMEWORK!

ENDORPHINS HAVE BEEN RELEASED! NO ANGSTY THOUGHTS!

PURPLE GERBILS UNTIE!

9/30 (Thursday)

I've had the strangest feeling. I feel like something's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know, but…it feels…wrong, like I don't tomorrow to be there…I was irritable today, but had only one meat killing incident. I'm getting better. A bit.

Oh well, my hunches nearly always turn out wrong. That's why I suck like a bucket of ticks at poker.

Lily has been heard murmuring in her sleep about James. My information source is Alice, and it's very convenient because Lily has always talked in her sleep.

We _may _be ready to implement another step. I told Remus, and he informed me that while this is a good sign, it is not necessarily on the path that leads to quidditch playing progeny. I love how Remus talks. It's so funny. I have no idea why, though. I wish I could do that—make just anything I say funny. I suck at that.

I found a folktale about some different, legendary kinds of magic. They seem just to be muggle superhero kind of magic stuff. Pretty funny.

Ha! SUPERMAN! That's great.

END OF THE MONTH!


End file.
